Stephanie
by bionic4ever
Summary: Introduction to NESSA, the next generation. Stephanie Goldman faces a life threatening situation her first week as Director of NESSA.
1. Chapter 1

**Stephanie**

Chapter One

NESSA Director's Office, Wash. DC, 4/10/2016

Stephanie Goldman smiled contentedly as she sat back in her new chair (just delivered that morning) at the desk that, until a week ago, had been her mother's. There was an almost overwhelming amount of history in this desk; when the building had been the headquarters of the OSI, her father had also sat there, in the same spot, behind the same desk. Stephanie kept it lovingly and respectfully polished so it still shone like brand-new, except for two or three places where her father's cigars had scorched the wood, but she considered those marks to be battle scars worthy of being left 'as-is'.

So much history...her father's retirement when he'd learned she was on the way...his return four years later, when Colonel Austin told the Secretary of State exactly where he could stick the entire OSI...the end of the NSB in 1992, its duties absorbed by the OSI and the CIA, following Jack Hansen's journey into psychosis...and the final days of NASA in 2007; after the third shuttle explosion, no one wanted to even hear the words 'space program'. Not long after that, the CIA was gone as well, and - due mainly to the leadership and organizational skills of her parents - a new agency rose out of the OSI and the ashes of the NSB, CIA and NASA.

They called the new agency NESSA: National Envoys and Security Specialist Associates. Stephanie's mother, Jaime Goldman, had been gradually handed the reins as her father - ever so slowly - eased himself into true retirement. Now the title of Director belonged to Stephanie. Plenty of people grumbled that she'd been handed the job on a golden platter simply because of who her parents were, but she had truly earned her spot behind the desk, first as an outstanding operative in her own right, and later, as her mother's assistant. They'd all learn soon enough what she was really about, though, once they'd worked with her more closely. Stephanie demanded the same degree of excellence from her subordinates as she expected from herself, and accepted nothing less than the loyalty and respect she'd worked and fought so hard for.

The office door opened and a man walked in - one who would've been extremely handsome if he wasn't swimming in attitude - and he pulled up a chair, sat down and _put his feet on the desk_! Stephanie glared icily at him, got up, walked around the desk and silently, one at a time, removed his feet from the glossy surface and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor. She moved back around the desk and sat down before she finally spoke.

"Good morning, James. Do that again and you'll be hobbling around on foot-less ankles. Clear?"

James grinned, the same 'you can't possibly be mad at me' grin that his father, Steve Austin, used so often. "You got it, Steph."

"Steph-a-nie...unless you'd prefer to be known as Jimmy."

"Now, that's cold."

Stephanie smiled with satisfaction. "_That_ is reality."

A timid knock on the door interrupted the Director/Assistant repartee' and Annie, the new secretary, poked her head inside. "Excuse me...ma'am?"

"My mother wasn't even a ma'am - Stephanie is just fine."

"Stephanie, there are three men in the conference room. They say they've got a bomb, and they want to talk to the person in charge."

James stood up quickly. "I'll go."

Stephanie shook her head. "They want me...I hope they can deal when they get exactly what they asked for!"

------

Stephanie gave a series of rapid-fire directions to James as she hurried to the conference room. "Evacuate the building and then the rest of a three-square-block area. No one who isn't absolutely necessary gets in - so that means no one at all. A SWAT team coming in the window will just get me killed and the whole area decimated; don't let them try it."

"Stephanie -"

"I'll handle this. You just make sure everyone - _everyone_ - stays clear. Got it?" They'd reached the closed door to the conference room. "Get outta here, James."

Stephanie opened the door slowly and stepped inside, closing it behind her. She didn't see a bomb, but there were three very large men with even larger guns. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" she asked, her voice steady and calm.

"Great," one of them griped, "we ask for a leader and we get his secretary. Go get your boss, little girl, and then take my advice and go home."

"You asked for the boss, and I'm here. Sorry to disappoint you."

"You're in charge? You are a Barbie doll!"

"Hardly. And right now, you're wasting my time. What is it you want?"

"We are Hezbollah and we are demanding the release of our brothers and sisters from your prisons immediately. You will comply with this, or the great city of Washington DC will be reduced to rubble."

Stephanie didn't see a bomb but was still looking, trying not to be too obvious. "The bomb is not here," he told her. "Where is it? Perhaps under the White House or one of your many monuments. Perhaps beneath this building." He pointed his gun directly at Stephanie, who amazingly didn't flinch. "You will comply immediately."

She took another step toward him, ignoring the gun and its threat. "I couldn't do that if I wanted to; that sort of thing takes time, and -"

"**Now**!"

"You might as well go ahead and shoot me, because I'm telling you it would be impossible, in that time frame. And if it was possible I still wouldn't do it."

"We will also make a statement on your American television - all channels."

"Ain't gonna happen." Stephanie said defiantly. "So you may as well either shoot me or get the hell out of my building. You've made a wasted trip, gentlemen."

They were at a stalemate. Stephanie moved forward until she was just inches from the barrel of the gun. "If you blow up this building, you're going with it, you know."

"We are prepared to die for our cause."

"But - if you detonate the bomb, it'll mean you didn't get what you wanted. You'd be dying for nothing. Wouldn't you rather pick another cause at another time and die actual heroes?" She could see he was thinking about this, so she kept going. "You haven't done anything so terrible yet. Why don't you just pack up everything and walk out of here like you were workers being evacuated? Just walk away quietly and find a place where you can really be heroes?"

"Do you think us to be stupid? The very same minute we are out the door, your snipers will shoot us dead. Better to die here, making a point, than to be shot like dogs in your streets."

"I can give you my personal guarantee that wouldn't happen."

"We would take the word of a Barbie doll - why?"

"Because you have no one else to negotiate with. Everyone else has been cleared from the area. My word is the only one you're going to get. So either listen and take my suggestion, or do what you've got to do and die for no reason like losers."

Stephanie stood her ground, staring the man directly in the eyes as the cold metal of the gun barrel made an imprint on her forehead.

------


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A large black car pulled up to the barricades, three blocks from NESSA's headquarters. Jaime Goldman, now 66, and her husband Oscar, 86 but looking and feeling much younger, nearly flew from the car but were stopped from going any further by a battalion of guards. Looking to their right, they saw a familiar face from the past.

"Steve?" Jaime was amazed he was back in DC.

"Hi, Jaime. Oscar." Steve reached out to shake his former boss's hand.

"How long have they been in there now?" Jaime asked.

"Not long; just forever."

"Do they know who these people are?" Oscar queried.

"James thinks they might be Hezbollah."

Jaime shivered. "Oh, God. She's still so new at this."

Oscar pulled his wife closer. "She's the best, Sweetheart. She'll be ok."

"She's all alone..."

------

Stephanie refused to budge or change her mind, even staring directly down the barrel of a gun into the coldest pair of eyes she'd ever seen. "I told you, you can walk out right now, before you've harmed anyone, and I guarantee my men will not shoot you." They had been trying to stare each other down for over an hour, but the man who seemed to be the leader of the three did appear to be mulling it over. "Don't die for no reason," she prodded. "You're worth more than that. Your life is more important than that."

He looked to his two accomplices. "We will secure her to the chair, then we will go."

Two pairs of hands shoved her her roughly into a chair. Stephanie cooperated fully, placing her hands behind her back to be tied. She realized she didn't know where the bomb was, but figured they could deal with that later. The men tied her securely, with much more rope than necessary and slapped duct tape across her mouth.

Then, just as suddenly as this had all begun, Stephanie was alone. She didn't need her mother's bionic ear to know when the men reached the front door of the building. Three quick shots resonated loudly, announcing that, yes, it was all over. _Sorry, guys,_ she thought to herself, _I promised you my men wouldn't shoot you, and they didn't. Those were FBI sharp-shooters who just took you down._

Within minutes, the conference room was flooded with people: her parents, Steve Austin, a few FBI gunmen - just in case - and James. Steve reached the chair first and broke her bonds with a single fingertip. Stephanie finally allowed herself to feel the fear, now that it was over, and, shaking like a falling oak leaf, she grabbed her parents in a three-way hug.

"Sweetheart," Oscar said, "I'm not sure how you did that, but I'm so proud of you."

"I learned from the best," she said simply.

James nodded his head at her with newfound respect. "Great job, Chief."

Stephanie smiled at him. "Keep your feet off my desk, and maybe someday I'll even teach you a thing or two."

END


End file.
